Surrogate
by Excited-Insomniac
Summary: Mai dies giving birth, so Katara stays in the Fire Nation to help Zuko raise his daughter. Eight years post show onwards. Canon ships, but mostly Zuko and Katara interacting, sometimes romantically. Plenty of angst, fluff, and general feels.


***WARNING TO KATAANGERS/MAIKOIANS/SENSITIVE PEOPLE WHO LIKE PICKING FIGHTS: it claims canon ships, and it's true, but there is some Zutara in the mix as well. If that's going to be a problem for you, I suggest you stop reading here. I did not write this with the intention of pleasing every kind of fan and shipper on . Thanks in advance for not flaming! And now, our feature presentation.***

**Surrogate **

Mai's funeral was easily the saddest thing Katara had ever seen. She and Aang were there in the front right corner of the large plaza where Zuko had been crowned—was it really already eight years ago?—with Mai's parents and brother in the center, closer to the unlit pyre . The rest of the courtyard was full of members of the court and some women Mai had gone to school with. Ty Lee was in the crowd with Suki and Sokka, who had been married three years now, and Katara had glimpsed Toph earlier as well, unusually solemn and well-dressed.

But Zuko…

Katara knew just from looking at him that he would never be the same. His and Mai's relationship had had its ups and downs, just like anyone's did. But she had seen him just under a year ago, and he had been adorably awkward about his and Mai's plans for children.

How wrong those plans had gone.

Princess Ursa, only a few days old, was so smothered in white the nanny looked like she was toting a small cloud rather than a baby. She was silent in the woman's arms, and Katara couldn't take her eyes off the tiny bundle. But as the Sages completed the rites and released gouts of flame to consume Mai's body, she shifted her gaze in time to see Zuko's face seem to crumple in on itself and she recognized it as a deep unspeakable pain he would never be fully rid of. Such was the nature of loss.

Never a masterful public speaker, all he could manage at the end of the ceremony was a choked "Thank you for coming" before he disappeared into the Palace. White-garbed attendants ushered the mourners to a large indoor pavilion littered with stiff chairs and tables laden with platters of light food. Some muttered at the Fire Lord's absence from the event dedicated to his wife's death, but most were sympathetic and shushed them. Katara stayed long enough to greet her friends and brother, and then left Aang in the company of Toph and Iroh before slipping away through a side door to find the one who really needed compassion that day.

She had gotten to know the Palace fairly well over the years of visits, both political and personal, and she quickly found her way to the secluded pond garden he had shown her over six years ago, when he learned his mother was gone from him just as hers was from her.

His heavy, formal robes lay strewn along the last stretch of hallway and when she finally caught up with him, it was to see that he had worn a burgundy tunic and pants under his white mourning garb. He had been Firebending, if the singed grass and stones were any indication, but now he was crouched at the pool's edge, all curled up like an armadillocoon, and his shoulders shook with stifled sobs.

"Zuko…" She said it softly, with all the tender sorrow in the world, and he jumped as if she'd slapped him. When he looked at her, his face was red and wet. Both eyes leaked tears.

"Oh," he said, and turned away. He knelt with one leg under him, as she had seen him do before his near-disastrous Agni Kai with his sister. She crossed to him, slippers crushing the crunchy grass.

"Zuko," she said again, kneeling next to him, and all of a sudden he was in her arms and howling from fear and loss and pure anguish. Zuko, the strongest person she knew, the boy she used to hate and fear who had become her loyal ally and most trusted friend, was clutching her as if he never meant to let go and crying like a lost and broken-hearted child.

She wept as well. She went for the grief she felt at the loss of the good and true friend Mai had become. But mostly she wept for Zuko, for the wife he had lost and the daughter he'd gained who would never know her mother.

It took time for his shuddering sobs to subside, and when they did, the sky was the glimmering orange of dusk.

He sighed heavily as he sat up. His shoulders were limp and his back curved as if under a terrible burden.

"Tell me it gets better," he implored, staring up at the sky.

"It gets better," she replied immediately. He shuddered again and clenched his hands against his thighs. "It will never go away. You know that as well as I do. You will always love her and miss her, and it will always hurt. But it will get better. I promise."

He sighed again and said "What am I supposed to do?"

She just waited, sensing the half-formed words and thoughts and fears behind the question that he was preparing to bring out.

"I have no idea how to be a father," he finally said. "Let alone a single one. Ursa needs a mother, not just nannies and maids. Mai would have… We… we were supposed to have _more_, you know? More years, more children, more… love." A few tears trailed down his cheeks, but he didn't break down again.

They sat together as dusk turned to night and the stars came out, one by beautiful one.

"Stay here in the Fire Nation," he said abruptly, turning to face her. "Just for a while. Help me. Please."

After the initial instant of shock, a million thoughts swarmed her: Aang. Republic City. Her Waterbending students. She couldn't simply leave them all.

But Zuko never asked anyone for anything, and his eyes were so _sad_…

She and Aang argued for the first time in a long time that night. Katara rarely insisted on anything. It was against the nature of her element. But she knew this was something she needed to do. Aang brought up all of the things she herself had thought of, but she had given herself time to reflect after leaving Zuko in the garden, and had realized there was nothing she was doing across the ocean that someone else couldn't do just as well. So in the end she won, and when Aang left on Appa a few days later and Katara stayed behind, they parted on good terms.

Katara loved Ursa as soon as she held her for the first time. She had tufts of her mother's shiny ink-black hair and her father's ocher eyes, and she was a happy, contented baby, as if trying to make up for the tragedy her life had brought.

Katara had sent for her things from Republic City and moved into rooms just down the hall from the nursery.

There was talk, of course: the Water Tribe woman was trying to seduce the Fire Lord during his sorrow because the Avatar had spurned her, nonsense like that, but Katara turned a deaf ear, and after a few weeks of nothing short of saintly and proper behavior, added to the fact that she was still clearly attached to Aang and wrote him constant letters, she had gone a fair way towards subduing court gossips.

The months passed quietly. Aang visited as often as he could, but Republic City was still restless and new, and they often did not see each other for weeks at a stretch. Meanwhile, Katara became a fixture in Palace life, and was well-liked by everyone except the most sour old traditionalists. But none loved her more than baby Ursa. The girl had a natural affection and enthusiasm for life that couldn't quite be pinned on her immediate family.

Her first birthday was… difficult.

Katara had begun talking to the kitchen staff over a week in advance, letting them know that she and the Fire Lord and the Princess would be having a smaller party after the official court affair and required for there to be cupcakes or something equally delicious at hand.

The only problem was that she forgot to tell the Fire Lord himself.

She knew the formal event would be difficult for her friend. It was the first anniversary of Mai's passing, and all the pandering ninnies who populated the Capital city would be eager to express their heartfelt sympathy and show off their eligible daughters, any of whom would be sure to produce a _male_ heir before dying.

Zuko did admirably, though she could tell he was miserable. Katara kept Ursa with her at all times, and the child was her usual charming self. She saw her brother and Suki for the first time in a year, and the couple happily confided they were expecting a new addition to the family in just over seven months. Aang and Toph were busy in Republic City, unfortunately, but Aang had sent one of the original Air Acolytes as his representative, an earnest young woman named Yee-Li. Katara had to admit to herself that she still didn't trust the girls who were formerly her boyfriend's fan club, but not a single off-color comment was made about her and Aang's status, so she allowed her grudge to slip to the back of her mind.

No one stayed later than manners demanded. Mai's parents were cold to her as they left, though ten-year-old Tom-Tom was perfectly polite. They were some of the few who had never stopped suspecting Katara of trying to steal Zuko's heart, but she supposed they had good reason and silently forgave them.

Afterwards, Katara deposited the giggling Ursa with a maid and went to make sure all the preparations were ready for the small private party. To her satisfaction, she found the small eastern solar decorated with a round table under red cloth and the windows thrown open to welcome the cool evening breezes that always swirled within the caldera that cradled the Fire Nation Capital. She sent a servant to the kitchens to fetch the cupcakes, noting with some surprise how natural it had become to order people around.

Ursa shrieked with glee and grabbed Katara's hair loopies when Katara recovered her from the maid, who looked quite relieved to be let off Princess Watching Duty. Back in the solar, Katara placed the baby in the high chair of honor between her and Zuko's seats and played patient rounds of peek-a-boo while waiting for the Fire Lord to make his appearance.

But when he had not made said appearance after half an hour, even Ursa grew bored with the game.

"Well," Katara huffed, making sure to keep her tone cheerful even though she was actually quite peeved. "Your Daddy is very late, darling girl. What are we to do with him?" Ursa cooed and gurgled. "Yes, how right you are. Let's go find him right now." And she lifted the Princess into her arms and headed off for the Fire Lord's private study.

The guard stood to attention as she trotted around the corner, and moved to bar her access to the Fire Lord's rooms when she came close.

"The Princess needs to see her father," Katara told him. Her tone brooked no argument, and she saw the man's Adam's apple bob down, then up again.

"The Fire Lord has given strict instructions that he does not wish to be disturbed, my lady," he said nervously.

"Ah. In that case, allow me to rephrase," she replied, hitching Ursa up her hip. "I defeated Princess Azula in personal combat — were you around during her time? — and I am going to get into that office one way or the other. Am I clear?"

"Ah—ah—yes, my lady." Bowing low, he backed away from her and the gurgling princess, and Katara stepped up and opened the door.

The study was dim. The curtains were drawn to hold out the moonlight, and only a lonely few candles were lit around the walls. Zuko sat in the center of his room behind his desk, which was for once devoid of paperwork. Instead, there was a rather large bottle of sake and a small cup resting near the edge. Across the desk sat another cup, this one brimming with liquid. It had clearly not been touched. Spirits of the dead didn't drink sake.

"How did you get in?" Zuko asked brusquely as the door shut behind her. His hair and clothes were rumpled, she saw as she came closer. He had not bothered to change out of his formal wear, and his face was drawn and haggard.

"I threatened the guard," she said simply, and he snorted a bitter laugh before taking up his cup and tossing back the second half of its contents.

"I didn't want to be disturbed," he said curtly.

"If you're trying to dismiss me, you've forgotten who you're talking to," she replied gently.

"Katara, _please._"

"It's Ursa's first birthday. Come celebrate with us."

He slammed the little cup down on the desk, and she heard porcelain crack. Ursa whimpered. "Mai died a year ago today! How am I supposed to be happy about that!?"

"You're not! How could you be? I said it by the pond: you love her and you always will. But Mai is gone now, and Ursa is not, and it's your responsibility as a parent to love her and cherish her."

Zuko made a small choking noise in his throat and covered his face with one hand. He was silent for a long time. "Loving her… hurts," he finally croaked out.

"Yes," Katara agreed softly. Another long stretch of quiet.

"Can I… hold her?" he asked, taking his hand from his face. "I've never…" he trailed off, looking lost and strangely afraid.

"You've never held her before?"

"Not since Mai… not since she was born." His features spasmed, then stilled again.

"Oh, Zuko," she breathed. "Here…" She adjusted the baby in her arms and gently handed her to her father.

Zuko looked almost panicky cradling his tiny daughter, and kept glancing at Katara to make sure he wasn't doing anything wrong. She nodded encouragingly and smiled. He eventually calmed down, and gazed at little Ursa as if she were the sun and the moon and all the stars in the sky. Ursa looked back at him, and when she smiled and gurgled and grabbed for his chin, Zuko seemed to fold in on himself and started to cry, clutching her against his chest. Ursa bore this well, patting her father's hair and cooing, and Katara did the tactful thing and ducked out.

"I'll be right back," she told the pale guard, who nodded emphatically.

She took her time recovering the cupcakes from the small eastern solar, giving the Fire Lord the time he needed to recover his composure. She returned to the study toting a tray with cupcakes and a tea set, and the guard went so far as to open the door for her when she came near. Thanking him graciously, she stepped into the dim room. Zuko was still behind his desk, holding little Ursa against his chest and rocking slightly. She smiled at the sight as she moved forward and set the tray down.

"Thank you," said Zuko thickly.

"Of course," she murmured, unsure of what she was being thanked for, and went to open the thick velvet curtains. Moonlight streamed in across the hardwood floor, making the Fire Lord squint and the Princess gurgled happily. "There," she said cheerfully, coming back towards the desk. "Now all we need is a candle."

"I'll tell the guard—" Zuko began, but Katara held her hand up, smiling.

"Please give me more credit." So saying, she pulled a loose blue thread free from the cuff of her sleeve (she really needed some new clothes, now that she noticed…). With a twist of her fingers, she had a small cord of water curling in her fingers, and she moved this so that it encased the thread, and then froze it. "Ta-dah," she said. "Home-made candle without the hassle of tallow."

Ursa squealed and clapped in response to her jovial tone, and even Zuko smiled wanly. "They don't give you peasants enough points for ingenuity."

"You clearly haven't spent enough time around Sokka lately," she replied, and stuck the candle in the nearest of the three cupcakes. "Please light it, your Majesty."

"It'll melt," Zuko protested.

"As candles are wont to do," she replied archly.

Shaking his head, Zuko leaned forward and made a gesture reminiscent of striking a flint. A spark leapt from his fingers to the wick, and it soon burnt along merrily, melting the ice candle just as Zuko had so wisely predicted.

"Now blow it out, darling, like this," Katara encouraged, demonstrating the appropriate action.

Ursa stared at the little flame solemnly, then puffed out her cheeks in mimicry of Katara, and blew.

"Oh!" Katara jumped back to avoid having her hair loopies singed off.

Instead of air to put a candle out, a little gout of flame had emerged from the infant's mouth, soundly melting the candle and crisping the top of the already red frosting. Shocked by what she'd done, the little princess burst out crying, and Zuko looked alarmed as she started to thrash about in his arms. Katara hurried around the large desk and swooped her up in an embrace, murmuring soothing words.

"Hush now, dear one, it's all right, there, there… Zuko, quick, bend a little bit, just in your hand. Show her it's alright," she instructed.

Zuko complied, producing a small flame in his palm, and Katara turned to give Ursa a view of it. Her sobs eventually subsided into hiccups, and she rested limply against Katara's shoulder, watching her father. She finally fell asleep that way, soft dark hair tickling Katara's ear, who continued to sway peacefully and hum.

"Wow," Zuko finally sighed.

"I know," Katara agreed, turning to face him. "This is amazing."

"She's a bender," he said, examining the small flame that still burned in his hand.

"You must be very proud," she said gently.

He smiled up at her, confused and ecstatic and scared all at once. "I am."

Time passed placidly. Aang visited as he could, but Republic City gained momentum with every passing day, so their times together were few and far between, his visits going from every few weeks to every couple months. Toph had even had to set up a small police force, a fact which Katara found terrifically funny and took great pleasure in sharing with Zuko, who was also amused. Apparently she was teaching the Earthbenders of the department to bend metal too. Katara left the Fire Nation only once during those days, to help deliver Sokka and Suki's baby on Kyoshi Island. Their son was healthy, lusty and loud, with his mother's pale skin and his father's bright blue eyes. Sokka said he'd be a lady's man just like his dad someday. She had never seen her brother so proud and happy. They named him Tuluk.

She was scarcely gone for a week, but when she got back the maids and nannies reported that Ursa had become an absolute terror when she'd left, howling and screaming nearly nonstop. She only quieted down when her father held her, and even that didn't last long. The little princess barely let Katara put her down for weeks after her return, and Katara was glad to comply. She had missed her.

She began to talk not too long after that. Her first _recognizable_ word was 'da-da', though Katara swore she heard 'tea', 'no', and 'poo' well before that. Ursa called her Auntie Katara. Well, it was Annie-Kawa at first, but the intention was there.

The days took on a pattern: Zuko, Ursa and Katara ate breakfast together in the morning, and then Zuko went off for meetings, or ceremonies, or just paperwork, and Katara and Ursa would spend the day playing in the Palace or the grounds. Ursa loved stories, and Katara was full of them, gathered from all across the world, from her home in the Southern Water Tribe and its sister in the North, and all across the Earth Kingdom, and the Fire Nation too. Then they would have dinner together, unless Zuko was too busy, and then Katara put Ursa to bed before going off and taking care of her own letters and business and such. When Aang or Iroh visited it was an exciting commotion, and Ursa loved them as she loved everyone. But Aang was needed across the sea, and Iroh had become an indispensable mentor and counselor to the Earth King, so for the most part, it was only the three of them.

One night a few months after Ursa's third birthday, Katara was putting her to bed, as usual. Ursa had gone from being an adorable baby to an attractive child, vivacious and cheerful and full of enthusiasm for everything. It was a beautiful autumn evening, and Katara had spent the day showing her some Waterbending moves in the pond garden which the princess thought was their 'secret place'. Katara had just finished a story about a young girl who saves her friends from wicked goblins in a contest of riddles, when Ursa piped up, "Auntie Katawa, are you my mommy?" Her golden eyes were wide and earnest in her pale face, peeping out from above the crimson sheets.

Katara's heart gave a funny lurch in her chest. She had thought this question might come up, but had given little thought on how to answer it, and now she had been blindsided.

"No, sweetheart, I'm not your mommy," she replied softly, sinking back into the bedside chair. "Your mother was a woman named Mai who was beautiful and strong and who loved you, but she died when you were… very young. Your hair is like hers."

Ursa petted a lock of the feature meditatively. "Did I kill her?"

"Darling, no!" Katara exclaimed, horrified. "Of course not. Her body was not right for babies, that's all. It was not your fault. It was not _anyone's_ fault. You must understand that."

"Okay," Ursa agreed, and Katara thanked the Spirits that she was so young. Children often had an easier time with difficult concepts than their older counterparts. "Can I call you Mommy anyway?"

Katara hesitated for barely a moment before saying, "Of course, lovey. Of course you can. Goodnight."

"Goo night, Mommy."

Katara quietly left the bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and then strode quickly towards Zuko's rooms. He had missed dinner, citing the huge piles of bureaucratic pig-bullshhhtuf, _stuff_ (Katara had had Ursa), as his excuse.

The guards had long since stopped trying to keep her out of Zuko's rooms, orders or no orders, and the man stationed outside did nothing but nod nervously to her as she went past him.

"Zuko," she said as she entered his office. It was difficult to get words out of her throat for some reason. Zuko glanced up for a moment, but immediately leaned back over his desk.

"Oh, hi, Katara. Listen, I'm sorry I missed dinner, but this governor wants this dam built by next—"

"She asked to call me 'mommy'," Katara interrupted, and oh, _that's_ why it was hard to speak: she was crying.

At this, Zuko looked directly at her. "What did you say?" he asked after a moment.

She gestured mutely, fighting back tears. "I told her yes." Zuko released a harsh breath and pushed himself out of his chair. She hated how it sounded: like she was trying to replace Mai. That was the last thing she wanted, it ought to have gone without saying, but Zuko mourned her still…. He crossed the floor to stand in front of the window as Katara continued: "She asked if I was her mother first, and I told her no. I told her a little about Mai, that she loved her, and she has her hair, and she died a long time ago. And she—she asked if…" She couldn't contain her sobs any longer, and they burst free and wracked her.

"Asked if you could be her mother instead?" Zuko asked coldly.

Katara shook her head, hand pressed hard over her mouth to stifle her weeping. Her tears were hot on her face and she had to take several deep, shuddering breaths before she was able to say, "No, she asked if she killed her."

Zuko was blurry through her tearing vision, but she saw how his jaw went slack, and how he sagged against the wall as if he'd been punched in the gut. Zuko knew the guilt and confusion that came with losing a parent, just as Katara did. How horrifying it must be for him to know that his child was experiencing the same thing, even if it was just a shadow of it.

Katara instinctively moved forward and wrapped her arms around him, as if protecting him against his pain was something she could really do. It felt natural, then, for him to put his arms around her so they could prop each other up, and try not to think of old pains they had shared, and new ones to come, and all the joys in between.

"I said it wasn't her, of course… that it wasn't anyone's fault… and she asked me if she could call me Mommy anyway, and I couldn't say no… I'm sorry for how it looks; you know I would never try to replace Mai, but everyone needs a mother. We understand that better than most."

His arms tightened convulsively around her waist. "I know… I know."

They fell asleep nestled together in a large armchair in an antechamber adjacent to his office, and in the morning they both had terrible neck cramps.

Aang visited about a month later, to the joy of all. He wrote ahead to give them the date, and Appa landed in a large pavilion outside the east gates of the Palace in the late afternoon of the appointed day. Katara waited above the steps to the courtyard with Zuko at her side and Ursa behind her skirts. The princess was going through a shy phase, hiding even from her beloved Uncle Aang.

Aang was grinning broadly as he leapt off Appa, though Katara thought she saw something strange in his expression as he came towards them. But he was jovial and friendly as he greeted Zuko, and his kiss was just as she remembered them to be: affectionate and cool, and his hand on her waist was light and soft. He was playful with Ursa, pretending to not know she was hiding behind Katara and looking around towards the horizon with an exaggeratedly puzzled expression when she called out to him. He eventually 'found' her and scooped her up and tossed her high in the air (aided by his bending) and she shrieked and giggled while Zuko looked terrified.

"Mommy, Mommy, catch me!" she screamed gleefully as the wind buffeted her towards Katara, who smiled happily as she reached up and grabbed her.

"Here, let's go inside for dinner," Zuko suggested hastily, taking Ursa out of Katara's arms and holding her tight against him as if to stop Aang and his accomplice winds from stealing his daughter away. "You must be hungry after the long trip, right?" She smiled at him fondly. He was just going to die when Ursa hit dating age.

Dinner was wonderful. Katara was so glad to have Aang with her, even for a short while, and Ursa was on her best behavior, though only after insisting on wearing her prettiest dress and having her hair be 'right' (an elusive qualifier which it took nearly twenty minutes for Katara to figure out—in the end, after several childish exclamations of "No, not like that: better!", it meant 'with hair loopies'. Katara chose not to think about the political and social messages the three year old was inadvertently sending). The meal was vegetarian, displaying the best the Nation could boast. Everything was delicious, right down to the dessert of artfully carved melon with some kind of spicy sauce drizzled over the top (everything in the Fire Nation came with spice, Katara had learned that years ago). Aang chatted easily with Zuko and was charming with Ursa, but she knew him well, and there was something bothering him. She made up her mind to find out exactly what it was, but later, when they were alone.

Afterwards they moved to a small chamber with a large fireplace and several well-stuffed sofas and the adults nursed drinks while the child got warm milk. Zuko had invented one consisting of two parts ginseng tea and one part sake which Katara had come to enjoy quite a bit, but after one sip Aang said he'd rather just stick with tea. Monks didn't mix well with alcohol. Ursa leaned more and more limply against Katara's side as the hour progressed, and finally she carried the half-asleep child off to bed, where she gently undid the pins in her hair and pulled her dress off before tucking her into bed with a kiss. She made her way back to the room where Aang and Zuko still sat by the fire, the talk having turned to politics across the sea in Republic City. Her brother and Suki had moved there with Tuluk three months previously, she knew, and Aang said Sokka had started talking about setting up a Council of representatives from all four nations (probably two for the Water Tribes and up to three for the Earth Kingdom, given its size, though they hadn't consulted with King Kuei about that yet). Aang thought it was a brilliant idea and Zuko agreed as soon as he heard it, and Katara helped contribute to the discussion of who they should send from the Fire Nation once the Council was established.

It was growing late when they reached the tentative decision to send the former Lieutenant Jee, and Katara was amused by their habit of assuming everyone would like the idea as much as they did. Last she had heard, Jee was married to his childhood sweetheart and enjoying hanging out with Piandao in Shu Jing playing a lot of Pai Sho. But logistics could be dealt with later. She and Aang bid Zuko a warm goodnight and retraced the path she'd recently taken with Ursa, going a little further to reach her room instead of the princess'. Aang held her hand the whole way, and she silently delighted in his presence. She hated seeing him as infrequently as she did, but the situation was necessary, they both knew that.

She let them into her room and watched him cross to where the porter had placed his small pack on a low daybed, across from the door. She closed the door behind herself and leaned against it resignedly. "Alright Aang… tell me what's wrong."

He turned quickly, expression laid bare by surprise and faint… was it embarrassment? Guilt? Shame? "Nothing," he said quickly.

"Sweetie," she sighed, reverting to the nickname born of their 'honeymoon phase' now nearly ten years past. "I know we don't see each other much anymore, but I know you well enough to see when you're upset. You've had a funny look ever since you got off Appa. What is it?"

Aang sighed in turn and seemed to deflate as the odd anxiety which had hovered around him all evening suddenly became apparent. "Well…. That's just it… you say you know me, but I feel like I barely know you anymore. For years we were together nearly every day, and now you're here and I'm there and letters aren't much in place of a person, and I learn things about you from Sokka or Suki or Toph that you don't tell me. I nearly didn't recognize you when I landed today: you're practically Fire Nation."

"No I'm not!" she protested, stung. He of all people knew how proud she was of her Water Tribe heritage.

"You're wearing mostly red," he pointed out glumly.

Katara looked down at herself and was surprised to find it true. Somehow over the past three years the blue had leaked out of her wardrobe and the red had bled in and she hadn't noticed. "Aang, that doesn't mean anything," she soothed, stepping closer and putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's impossible to find blue cloth out here, you know that. And I can't imagine how the nobles would react if Ursa started wearing hair loopies _and_ blue—"

"And _Ursa_," Aang interrupted, shaking her hand off and striding towards the middle of the room. "She's adorable, Katara, but really? _Really?_"

"What?" she asked, bewildered.

"She called you 'Mommy'."

"So? I told you about that weeks ago."

"No, you didn't."

Katara stayed silent because she had suddenly remembered that that particular letter had been bound for her sister-in-law, not her boyfriend.

"Look, the point is that I'm scared I'm losing you here. Losing you to the Fire Nation, losing you to Zuko, losing you to Ursa… She calls you Mommy and it's almost like you think she's your own daughter!"

"Of course I do," Katara replied severely. He looked shocked and hurt as she rushed on. "I've known her since she was a week old, Aang. How could I not love her?" She fought to control herself in the face of her boyfriend's lunacy: she practically never got to see her him anymore, and _this_ was how he wanted to spend their time together? Fighting about stupid things? "And as for Zuko—how dare you! There is a line between being Ursa's surrogate mother and Zuko's second wife, and I have _not_ crossed it!" She finished shouting: the rage she felt towards him was immense and sudden.

"Then marry me!"

The silence was like what came after a clap of thunder. Katara was frozen in the tableau of the moment, frozen by the emotion and by the implications of the question (well, demand) and by how much her life could change with one little word. Yes…

"Don't ask me that while you're angry," she whispered instead, tears welling in her eyes.

"That's not how I meant to do it," Aang muttered, obviously angry at himself. He crossed the room again and delved into the pack that still rested behind her on the daybed. From one of the side pockets, he drew out a little lumpy package wrapped in blue cloth, and she caught her breath as he slowly unwound it and held up a necklace. It was done in the Nomads' style with round wooden beads and tassels, but on the central piece was, yes, a carving, done on a simple piece of ivory, of what seemed to be a large pale bird flying over the ocean. She grasped the implications at once: unity of Air and Water… It was beautiful and she loved it immediately, but her pride dictated that she could not take it from him after her rebuttal. "They're Air Nomad mala beads," Aang explained quietly. "I thought I could combine my customs and yours…" He looked at her with anguished eyes. "I'm sorry about how I said it. It came out wrong because I was upset, and I regret it. But I did come here with the intention of presenting this to you, and I still hope you'll say yes. I love you, Katara." He took her hand in his and went on one knee. "I want you to marry me."

The tears that had been threatening spilled down over her cheeks so she could only nod and hope he understood.

Apparently he did, because an enormous smile burst through his anxious expression and he bounded to his feet, aided by an excited gust of air. He put the necklace over her head and she cried some more, now from happiness rather than anxiety and stress, and they spent the night holding each other gently as they slept.

Zuko was thrilled for them when they told him the news the next morning, but Ursa was confused when Katara explained what her new necklace meant, asking "But Mommy, what about Daddy?"

"Daddy is Daddy, but Mommy is Auntie Katara, and she's marrying Uncle Aang," she explained. "Do you understand, darling?"

"Oh. Yes."

And marry they did.

They decided to hold the ceremony at the end of the next Peace Conference and Harmony Festival, which was based in Republic City six months after Aang's proposal. Leaving the Fire Nation again felt strange, but she had Ursa with her that time, as well as Zuko, and all of her friends and family whom she hadn't seen in so long. Tuluk had grown into a boisterous, friendly creature who developed an immediate crush on Ursa, to Zuko and Sokka's mutual alarm and Katara and Suki's amusement.

The wedding was bigger than she would have liked, but that's what happened when the Avatar got married: the whole world became involved. The Earth King wanted a seat for Basco, and all the White Lotus members wanted to be near each other, but Gran-Gran wanted Pakku with the family, and for some reason the Fire Nation nobles kicked up a fuss about Ty Lee sitting with the Kyoshi Warriors rather than them. But it really was lovely. Her father performed the rites, as per Water Tribe custom, and Sokka gave Aang warning looks the whole time, which wasn't custom, only Sokka being Sokka. Ursa was the flower girl (an Earth Kingdom tradition) and young Tuluk was Gran-Gran's escort (which they just made up because he felt left out). It was the happiest day of Katara's life.

They were to spend the honeymoon on Whale Tail Island, pretending they were the only two people in the world, sleeping late and playing on the beach and being sensual and sweet with each other. But the Earth King sent a letter only eight days into the planned fourteen: there were bandits terrorizing a vital supply route, and he demanded the Avatar's help. So they packed up with disappointed hearts, and flew north-east across the Earth Kingdom. He took her to a port to book passage to the Fire Nation and kissed her sadly as he left. Katara tried not to be upset by the situation: Aang had to be the Avatar as well as her husband, and the world required a lot more attention and maintenance than she did. But couldn't the world have waited at least until the _honeymoon_ was over?

Her sprits rose once she was home at the Palace though. Ursa was ecstatic to see her again, and even Zuko's habitually gloomy countenance lightened some at the sight of her. As much as it hurt her, she knew she and Aang belonged apart for the time being. And there were other wonderful things to occupy her time, and she knew enough of life to enjoy them while she was able.

So days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and before Katara knew what was what, over a year had passed. Ursa had begun her Firebending training, and was already demonstrating incredible talent, causing Zuko pride and anxiety. Katara knew what his worry was since she felt a hint of it herself, and comforted him that Azula was not evil because she was a Firebender, but because she was Azula. "And Ursa," she said reassuringly, "is Ursa." Zuko (at Katara's encouraging) had given his daughter a small portrait of him and Mai, which had been done just after their wedding, four years before Ursa was born. Ursa had put it on her bedside table and requested for Katara to do her hair in Mai's favored style of odango twin-tails, and Katara felt both relieved and obscurely saddened: Ursa had been adorable in hair loopies. She and Zuko had taken to sitting up in the evenings after Ursa was asleep, talking over their respective days and sharing his tea and sake concoction. She advised him on what matters she could, while cheering him with little anecdotes from Ursa's day. He tended towards angst, her Fire Lord, but alcohol and stories of their child's shenanigans usually cheered him. They sometimes even sparred if Ursa had been cranky (rarely) or the nobles particularly obnoxious (frequently). It was a good way to blow off steam—often literally, given their elements—and allowed them to reminisce cheerfully about the old days as they rested afterwards.

Zuko decided to take a whole week off for his daughter's fifth birthday and whisk the family away to Ember Island. Ursa was insanely excited, since she had heard all about how her Mommy and Daddy and their friends had stayed there before they ended the War, and Katara had promised to take her to a show by the Ember Island Players. Zuko had rolled his eyes when he heard that, telling her to make sure it was one of their really bad ones so that Ursa wouldn't develop her namesake's affection for the group. She smiled and said she'd see if The Boy in the Iceberg was having a revival.

A week before they left, Aang paid an unexpected visit. An attendant brought him into the dining room where Katara and Zuko and Ursa were having dinner.

"Aang!" Katara jumped happily to her feet and hurried over to kiss him. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you write ahead? Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he replied, "everything's fine, don't worry."

"Then you'll sit and eat with us?" Zuko asked, gesturing for a servant to bring a fourth chair and some food.

"Certainly. I have to leave tomorrow, so I should enjoy the luxury while I can," he said, coming to the table with Katara.

"So soon?" she asked, startled and saddened. His visits were never long anymore, but he usually stayed more than a day.

"Yes," was the regretful answer. "Roku has told me that I need to make a journey into the Spirit world. He says I've gotten this world enough back on track that I can leave it for a few months to meet the Great Spirits and some more of my past lives."

"A few months…" Katara repeated faintly.

"I know," he said, and she heard the sadness behind his mild tone. "I am the Spirit Bridge though. It's my responsibility."

"I don't want to be the Avatar," Ursa announced, speaking for the first time since Aang's arrival. "It's a lot of work."

The adults burst out laughing. "It is," Aang agreed. "Don't you worry though; I plan to be the Avatar for a good long time."

As an apology for missing his 'niece's' birthday, he brought her a pet koala-pug whom she loved and promptly named Oma after her favorite heroine, even though it was a male. For Zuko and Katara he brought stories of their friends: Toph ruled her metal benders with an iron fist, as Sokka so cleverly put it. Tuluk had adopted the boomerang as if it had been born in his hand, and was giving his old man a run for his money. The Air Acolytes grew more numerous with every passing year, and had begun to set up charities like soup kitchens and shelters for the disadvantaged immigrants who flooded Republic City.

They didn't sit up and talk late as they had on so many of Aang's other visits. Directly after dinner, Zuko took Ursa off to bed, saying that she needed a lot of extra sleep because everyone did all of the year's growing on their birthdays, so they needed extra energy. Katara sent him silent thanks over Ursa's protestations as she and Aang slipped off to her room.

He left early the next morning, as he had promised. Katara walked with him out to the stables to get Appa, her steps heavy.

"I'll miss you," she said quietly as Aang hitched Appa's reins up.

He turned to face her, expression full of resignation and melancholy. "I'll miss you too." He opened his arms and she went to him and they hugged in the dim dawn's light. "We've never been apart for so long," he murmured above her head. "A couple months is nothing… Roku said I might be gone as long as a year."

"Last night you said a few months!" she protested, half angry and half horrified. She tried to pull away, but he drew her close again.

"I didn't want to upset you in front of Zuko and Ursa," he explained, but she was only partially placated.

"You could have told me once we were alone…"

"I'm sorry." They held each other in silence for a moment. Then, "…Listen…" he said uncomfortably. His tone sent anxious prickles down her spine. "We're both human… I mean, I'll be in the Spirit world, so I won't have to think about it, but… a year is a long time, and, well, I'd understand if you wanted to take a lover while I'm gone."

This time she did pull away, and he let her. "_What?!_" It was more of a push, really. "You think I'm some kind of—of _sex-crazed harlot_ who can't get along without a man in her bed? That's _disgusting_!"

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, putting his hands up in a mollifying gesture. "I just thought—"

"You _thought?_ Did you really? I married _you,_ Aang, and I did it for a reason. I don't want anyone else, and if I have to wait for a year to see you again, then I'll wait _faithfully_. Do you trust me so little?"

"It's not that I thought you'd fall in love with someone else," he protested, face pained. "I guess I thought I was being considerate."

Katara struggled to rein in her temper. Aang always meant well, she knew. Of course he did. He was Aang. But this was by far the most stupid and insulting thing he'd ever said to her, even more so than his comparison of the death of her mother to Appa getting kidnapped by sandbenders all those years ago.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, taking her hand. She did not relax her stiff posture. "I don't mean you're a sex-crazed harlot, or that you can't get along without a man. But people have needs, and it wouldn't be fair if you didn't satisfy yours just because I wasn't there."

"Like I haven't been doing that for the last five years," she replied sharply. "What do you think has been happening, I call up the chef's apprentice every time I 'feel an urge'? _Is that what you've been doing with the Acolytes?_"

"What? No! No, of course not. I'm just saying, a year is a long time, that's all. I want you to know you have options."

"Well, thank you very much," she snapped. "You have my permission to stick it in any attractive Spirit lady you find this year as well." She turned on her heel and stomped out of the stable.

"Ka-_ta-_ra." His exasperated tones floated out after her, and she felt his hand on her elbow. "Look, I didn't mean to offend you. _I'm sorry_, okay? Can we not separate on bad terms?"

Against her will, her heart softened. He was right: this would be a very stupid way to part, especially since it could be a year before they saw each other again. She sighed. "I'm sorry too," she replied softly. "I know you were trying to be considerate, but it felt like you were undermining my fidelity."

He hugged her from behind. "I would never do that."

"I know."

Again they stood in silence. The sun climbed incrementally higher into the sky and the breeze was fresh and light.

"I have to go," he finally said. They kissed once, and he was gone, high in the sky with Appa and Momo and his duty to his destiny. Katara went inside and had breakfast with Ursa.

She spent the rest of the week preparing for the holiday on the Island, finishing her packing and instructing servants and so forth, and missed Aang no more than she usually did, and often less. By the time they were ready to leave, she had nearly forgotten about his permission for lovers.

The day before Ursa's birthday, they boarded a small ship with a small collection of servants, some of whom had children who were friends with the princess, and set off. Ursa wouldn't sit still, constantly running back and forth along the deck to stare at the passing islands and the fish that leapt in the boat's wake, and the little pack of children followed her like a tail follows a comet. Zuko and Katara sat on the upper deck under a shady pavilion, and Katara sometimes Waterbended elegant shapes that looked like animals or people for the children to scream and laugh at. It was amazing to think that all of these children had been born after the War ended. They need never know the fear of battle or the sorrow of loss, except for the most unlucky ones. The sun glimmered off the waves and the breeze was fresh and warm from the south, and Katara and Zuko laughed along with the children, because they were alive, and together, and it was a beautiful day.

Katara hadn't been back to Ember Island since the days of the War, when hiding from Ozai in his own house felt strange. She knew that Zuko had been back a couple times with Mai, and watched him carefully for signs of distress, but he seemed content to let new, happier memories overtake the old and the sad, and she was proud of him.

They spent a few hours walking the beach as the servants opened the house up, and Katara stripped to her bindings like she always used to and took a swim because hey, there were no nobles around to be scandalized. Ursa, who had never gotten so up-close and personal with such a huge body of water before that morning, let alone interacted with it, was scared for her Mommy's life until Katara bended a big throne of ice out of the sea and sat high above the waves, feeling regal and silly (with the backs of her thighs quickly freezing). She soon went back to shore and reassured Ursa of her safety, and returned the smile Zuko was giving her. She put her robes back on (inside out, she later realized) and tied her sopping wet hair back (flicking drops from the ends at the princess, who giggled) and held her hand as the trio walked back up the beach together to the house.

She had forgotten how beautiful the place was. When she'd been there during the War, the stress had been too high for her to really notice the lovely colors of the trees around the island, and the beautiful architecture of the house itself. The damage they'd done to it had long been repaired, of course. All the vines and ivy had been torn out and the paint had been redone and the house was bustling with noise and happiness. Katara wondered when the last time was that the house had sounded like that. Perhaps not since Zuko was a child. She was glad that he finally had a chance to lay so many old demons to rest.

With these pleasant thoughts, she slept heavily and dreamlessly, and when she awoke the next day, it was to find the sun streaming in through the windows and her daughter bouncing up and down on her bed screaming "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY, GET UP, GET UP, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" with Zuko in the background, ineffectually trying to calm her down.

"Ursa, Mommy's not Fire Nation, she doesn't like being up so early, come on—"

Katara laughed as she sat up, bundling the little princess into a big bear hug, who shrieked and giggled and returned it fiercely. "It's alright Zuko. It's a special day, isn't it, love? Would you like to go put on your pretty dress?"

"Ok Mommy! Just come see it? I'll be as pretty as you!"

"Thank you darling, but I have to get dressed as well. Show me what I should wear, and then I'll help you, alright?"

"Yay!" Ursa leapt off the bed and scurried over to Katara's trunk, where she started searching through clothes with wild abandon. Katara stretched and grinned at Zuko, who leaned against the desk across from the bed and watched his daughter with amusement.

"Morning," she said wryly, scooting off the bed and putting on a light robe over her night clothes.

"Morning," he repeated. "Sleep well?"

"Till now, yes," she replied, then turned to the birthday girl. "So what am I wearing, sweetheart?"

"THIS!"

Katara raised her eyebrows at Ursa's selection. She had packed the dress before Aang told her of his Spirit journey, and she had forgotten to take it out of the trunk. It was a silky blue material, sheer and sleeveless, and the neckline was far lower than anything she was going to wear in the presence of her daughter, let alone Zuko. She'd had it specially fashioned after her husband made his comment on the colors of her wardrobe on the night of their engagement.

"Um… alright, honey…" she agreed hesitantly, quickly running through her options in undershirts. Unfortunately, said dress was not really designed to go with undershirts. "You go get your outfit and we'll get ready together, alright?"

"Okay Mommy!" the princess chirped, oblivious to her mother's sudden discomfort. She skipped out, leaving the dress lying over the open trunk.

"That isn't for this kind of special occasion, is it?" Zuko asked dryly.

Katara sighed. "Not in the least. Go help Ursa; I need to find some kind of undershirt for this."

He left, and she began digging through her clothes, wondering why she had packed so much. They were only there for a week, for Agni's sake! Surely she didn't need five different dresses AND three sets of pants and tunics AND two coats, one light and one heavy. Life in the Palace was spoiling her. She eventually settled on a shiny black slip that went down to her knees, its neckline resting modestly just under her collarbones. It wouldn't be strictly fashionable, but it would get the job done.

Ursa bounced back into her room a minute later, arms overflowing with all of the clothes that she was somehow going to wear at once. Katara managed to whittle the pile down to only one pretty red dress with gold embroidery along the hem and cuffs. She was a darling about it, prancing back and forth for her mother to admire in the utterly unselfconscious way only children could manage.

The first order of business after breakfast was a cruise around the island, to admire its stunning geological features. Most of the rich houses and famed black-sand beaches were on the south side, but on the northern end were spectacular sheer cliffs with fountains of green vegetation spewing from the top. Ursa squealed every time a new colorful bird flew by, gripping Katara's hand and pointing till it was out of sight.

The finest restaurant on the island hosted them for lunch. Ursa was on her best behavior, and very politely told the anxious and hovering _maître d _to go away because she was trying to enjoy the meal with her family. Zuko nearly choked on a crab-prawn from laughing and Katara had to hide a smile behind her napkin every time the flustered man came back.

Next was the play, unfortunately. When the Players heard the royal family would be attending a show that week, they wasted no time in dusting off that old favorite, The Boy in the Iceberg, and gave the royal party a special matinée performance. Being in the front row rather than the nosebleed section did not improve the experience. They had revamped the ending, of course, to make it a little more historically "accurate", but the acting was still obscenely bad, and the implied romance between Zuko and Katara had been amped up considerably, most likely because of their living situation. Fortunately, Ursa didn't take it seriously. In fact, she thought it was hilarious, and spent the whole afternoon shouting "Avatar State—yip yip!"

It was turning to evening by the time they returned to the house, but the day was certainly not over. The whole house was full of lighted candles and torches, and swathes of red and gold cloth fluttered against the walls. Ursa's eyes were huge when she saw the veritable mountain of presents in the courtyard (half of them from Grandpa Iroh, of course), and the dinner and cake the servants had spent the day preparing. Ursa was in heaven all evening. She dealt with the attention with enthusiasm inherent to her age and grace inherent to her royal blood. She took the place of honor at the head of the table as night fell and she and her friends jabbered and ate and oohed and aahed over the gifts she opened, Ursa sharing those that could be shared and quietly putting aside those that could not. Katara had to admire her natural people skills; they were remarkable for her young age. She would be a marvelous ruler someday, and a wonderful person in the meantime. Katara knew there was no way she could be more proud of her. She met Zuko's glowing eyes over their daughter's head, and smiled.

He brought their tea and sake to her room that night, as had become their custom, and they grew comfortable as the silence swelled between them on the veranda. The stars wheeled overhead, and the whicker bench they shared settled under their weight.

"What are you thinking about?" he eventually asked.

"Leaving," she replied simply, solemnly. A moment passed in which she felt his horror. She was very well attuned to him after so long.

"Don't. Please," he rasped.

She looked at him look at her. "I don't want to," she replied, and in that moment it was right for him to lean in and kiss her and fine for her to kiss him back, and when he reached for her waist she shifted towards him and he didn't protest when she tugged at his belted robes. Soon after, they fell into bed, and bliss, and oblivion.

Katara did treason to her heart that night, no matter how much she wanted it, and she privately swore to never do it again.

In fact, she tried to focus exclusively on Ursa the next day, but her head had a different idea. So, after what felt like ages of fighting with herself but was only actually a few hours, she took a walk down the beach and unpacked her feelings and examined them honestly for the first time in years. What she found alarmed her. She had decided she loved Aang back when she was fourteen, and had tucked the fact away and never reevaluated it. That was half her life ago, and he was no longer the child of twelve he once was. She respected him in ways she hadn't fourteen years ago, and relied on him and cared for him deeply. But no matter how far down she dug, nothing like romantic love appeared.

And as for Zuko… that was almost worse. She had long considered him a dear friend. After he took her to the Southern Raiders and allowed her to confront Yon Rah in her own way, he became a sort of confidante. They had bonded over similar traumas, and when he saved her life from Azula's lightning, and then she his in turn, they had formed a deep and unbreakable bond. One she had always thought to be strictly platonic. And perhaps it had been at first. But somehow over the years, something had grown in an untended corner of her heart. It was not fierce, or passionate, or demanding. But it was there, and its roots went deep, she learned as she explored. Her love for Zuko was quiet and profound, and when she found it, it scared her, and the only thing to do was deny it was even there.

She was _married_, she reminded herself fiercely. Over the years Ursa had become her daughter, but what was it she had said to Aang? There was a difference between being the surrogate mother and the second wife? She did not regard herself as the sort of person who broke oaths, no matter if permission had been given, and her guilt was extreme. So she tucked the event deeply away in her mind and went on as if life were the same. It was better that way, she reassured herself as she trudged back up to the house. And ignoring her mistake did not mean she could not learn from it: she knew she would never break her faith to her husband again.

Zuko seemed to feel the same, because he neither tried to reenact the evening nor mentioned it. He was kind and attentive, if slightly awkward, until they went home, when he was swamped with catch-up work and had to slog through a series of very long days. The cold he subsequently caught and her sympathy brought back the camaraderie, though there was still a barrier which neither of them touched, let alone tried to breach. She thought it strange that one kind of intimacy had stolen another.

At first she had thought it was food poisoning: Zuko had also complained about the fish that night at dinner, so when she was ill the next morning, that's what she put it down to. But when she was sick the next morning, and then the next, she knew something was going on. Tracing her own chi tickled like nothing before or since, but afterwards she knew for sure.

She went straight to Zuko's office. It was early yet—Ursa wouldn't be awake for at least an hour—but Zuko liked to get a prompt start in the mornings, Firebender that he was, and was often found sorting the day's paperwork at the very crack of dawn, long before breakfast. This day was no different. The yawning guard gave her a halfhearted salute as she whisked past him, glowing with private maternity and obvious joy. "I'm pregnant!" she announced merrily to Zuko.

He startled so badly that he tipped the ink plate over and it spilled dark liquid over his parchment. She bent the puddle back into the dish, smiling the whole time.

"I've had morning sickness the last three days, but I checked with Waterbending just now, and there's no question. Spirits, I feel so scattered! I wonder if it's a boy or a girl. Or if it's a bender? I suppose it will be. I remember Yugoda told me once it's possible to tell, but not till later on."

"Is it mine?" he asked.

She froze. Somehow that idea had utterly escaped her notice.

"I'm not sure… I don't think so," she said uncertainly. "Maybe though? Oh, Agni…" She sank into the chair in front of his desk. Her skin, which had so recently tingled with euphoria, now felt loose and shivery.

What if it _was_ Zuko's? She had dismissed that night on Ember Island so thoroughly, she hadn't even thought about any other sort of repercussions besides the guilt which still flared up at her when she smiled at him. She was married to Aang, so the baby was Aang's: that's as far as she had thought. But golden eyes wouldn't come from a Waterbender or an Airbender.

"Aang was here within the time that… I mean… my…" Her healing side was failing her now in the face of her anxiety and shame, and she stuttered into silence.

"It could have been either of us," he established quietly. She nodded. "So there's a possibility it's his." She glanced up at him and nodded again. "But also that it's mine." She looked down. Another nod. "If it is Aang's, there's no problem. But what if it looks like me?"

She shrugged miserably and shook her head. "Aang said… he told me that since he would be gone so long, I could… ugh, I could take… a lover, if I wanted to…" She coughed to clear her throat of the tears that were making it swell. "I was so offended when he said that, but now it just seems like some strange prophesy." She laughed, a little bitterly. "I wasn't going to do anything of the sort, but…" No need to finish _that_ sentence. Knowledge hung like a think shroud around them. "So I suppose, if it looks like you, I could just say… I took a man once… not you, of course. But a man with the same look…"

Katara's nerves began to settle. If the baby resembled Zuko, there was an alibi, one Aang had created himself. It would be a monstrous lie, of course. She couldn't imagine the depths of the betrayal he would feel if he ever found out. But there was no reason he ever would, really. And it was more likely the baby was his anyway.

She heaved a deep sigh. "Well," she said, setting her face hopefully. "I'm pregnant." She gave him a shaky smile and decided to be excited.

"I'm happy for you," he said, eyes bright and smile small.

So when a letter from Sokka arrived that afternoon, bearing the news that Mamma and Poppa Bei Fong had suddenly descended on Republic City and that Toph was a bit of a wreck, she had something even more exciting to write back about.

Her friends and brother were unable to visit: with Aang away in the Spirit World, Republic City had been left in the hands of the Council, of which Sokka and Suki were both part, and the police, of whom Toph was head, even with her parents visiting. They sent presents though, lots and lots of them, and the room next door to Katara's was soon dubbed "the baby's room", even though she obviously planned to have the baby stay with her.

Ursa was thrilled beyond words at the idea of a sibling. Only child-hood was not something Katara had ever had to experience, but she thought it must be very lonely sometimes. The princess asked constant questions about the baby: was it a boy or a girl? ("We don't know yet, darling, it's too early.") Would it be a Firebender like her? ("Er… we'll see.") When was it coming? ("Eight months or so.") But that was too _long!_ Could it come sooner? And on and on forever. Katara, already known for her patience and charm with the child, surpassed herself, as Zuko pointed out one evening over drinks (she had gone back to just ginseg for the duration of the pregnancy, and thought the tea lacked flavour without its usual sake accompaniment). She rubbed her still-flat tummy. "I don't know what it is, but ever since finding out about this little thing, I just feel… really happy." She looked up at him and smiled. "Does that make sense?"

He looked away into the fire and made a sound.

"What?" she said.

"Nothing," he said.

She reached across the couch and poked him in the ribs. "What is it?"

"Nothing!" he protested, laughing.

"I don't know how you do politics: you're a terrible liar. Come on, please?" She made exaggerated puppy-dog eyes and he laughed again.

"It's just… you asked if it made sense for you to be so happy about everything, and it just seemed strange because… Mai got really cranky when she was pregnant with Ursa."

"Oh," Katara replied. They didn't talk much about Mai, though she suspected Zuko thought about her more than he let on. "That happens to some women. Gran Gran says being pregnant turns you into the child you wanted to be."

"So Mai wanted to be cranky?"

"I don't know. Were you friends as children?"

"Not really: she was closer to Azula, and then I was banished anyway." A beat of calm silence. "And you wanted to be a happy child."

She smiled, quiet. "So badly."

He reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his chest, so broad and warm. _Careful,_ she told herself. _Careful now. You promised._

"Your child will never have to go through that, Katara," he said softly. "I swear it."

She cried, but not for long, and the time spent afterwards snuggled in front of the fire was comfortable and warm.

"Besides," he eventually said. "I always heard pregnant women are more like drunk people than kids." She laughed and smacked him.

Weeks passed, and she had no word from Aang, not that she was expecting to. She had plenty of news from Republic City though: the Bei Fongs had finally gone home again, and Toph was back to being her usual incorrigible self. Tuluk was now five, and irascible, as was only to be expected from Sokka's son. Republic City itself thrived, and the Air Acolytes tended Air Temple Island as smoothly as they ever did. One of the original Acolytes had taken Aang's Council position while he was gone, and sometimes wrote for advice on how Katara thought he would handle an issue.

It was Zuko, one warm evening when Ursa was asleep, who pointed out that the pregnancy and birth would mean her return to Republic City. For some reason, that had also utterly escaped her attention. Being pregnant may have made her inexplicably happy, but it also gave her very odd memory lapses.

The idea of leaving the Fire Nation was not a pleasant one. She had been there for over five years, living a life and building a family that she loved. Abandoning that—abandoning _Ursa_—was too painful to think about. So, as she told Zuko the next day while their child was in Firebending training, she would stay until Aang came back, whenever that was, and then reevaluate. She couldn't quite tell, but she thought he looked relieved.

So time passed, and her stomach swelled, and she did not hear from Aang. She had written to Sokka to ask that in the unlikely event of Aang going back to Republic City before returning to visit her, that he should he thoroughly reprimanded and sent across the sea in all due haste. But in all probability, he would go to her first. He was on Roku's home island, after all, and that was closer to the Fire Nation Capital than it was the Republic City, if only by a little bit. So she put him from her mind and focused on the addition to the family growing inside her.

Ursa became exponentially more excited as Katara's tummy grew. Her favorite activity now was to sit in the pond garden and tell 'her baby' stories, and sing it songs, and decorate the bump with flowers and pretty pebbles. Katara sometimes fell asleep like that, with the warm sun bathing her body and her daughter's voice burbling away happily close by. Zuko made a habit of finding them like that when it was time for dinner, and they would eat and laugh together, and Katara would put Ursa to bed, and she and Zuko would sit up and talk, sometimes late into the night.

"I think it's a girl," she told him one evening when she was just over five months along.

"Yeah?" he said, jerking out of the brown study they'd been sharing for the past few minutes. "What makes you say so?"

She shrugged. "Nothing much. Just a feeling I have. Apparently Mom knew Sokka was a boy and I was a girl before we were born."

"Huh."

They subsided into silence again. Zuko stared abstractedly into the crackling fireplace while Katara's hands roamed over her tummy.

"I know Aang and I need to have an Airbender." She interrupted their quiet a second time. "But I want to have a Waterbender first. Is that really bad of me?"

She had meant it half as a joke, so she was a little surprised when he didn't chuckle and make light of it. "No, it's not bad," he said instead. "You feel a kinship with this child that Aang never will because of his absence, and you don't want it to have a special bond with him instead of you once it is born. You want this child to be _yours_."

She stared at him in mild amazement. "I… yeah, you're right."

A few moments later, he stood and stretched. "I'm gonna call it a night. A man needs his rest, as my uncle once told me."

"Well," she laughed, standing as well and pressing her hands into the small of her back. "When Uncle Iroh says something, he's usually correct."

"Considering that you had just beaten me up in the North Pole when he said it, he certainly was," he replied, grinning ironically.

"We both did our fair share of beating each other up in those days," she said, rolling her eyes. "Probably best if Ursa doesn't know that, huh?"

As she lay in bed that night, thinking it over, she concluded that he probably hadn't been planning on kissing her. And she certainly, _certainly,_ had not meant to kiss him back. It had been gentle and chaste thing on the lips, but she had pulled away as soon as she realized what they were doing and had shaken her head. "Stop it," she had whispered. "We can't." Zuko had nodded sadly.

"I know," he had replied unhappily. "I'm sorry. I just don't know if I'm allowed to wish for this child to be mine or not."

"You're allowed to wish," she had said. "But realize that I want the opposite."

His eyes had tightened at the corners as he wished her goodnight.

And now she was lying in bed trying to sort out why she felt so guilty for putting him off.

"She _is_ a Waterbender!" she declared ecstatically one evening in the middle of the ninth month.

"Aw…" said Ursa. She had become quite fixated on the idea of her new sister being a Firebender like her.

"How can you tell?" Zuko asked, looking up from the scroll he'd been reading. Ursa was on the rug playing with Oma, the effeminate koala-pug, and Katara leaned against the sofa where Zuko sat. For some reason it felt much better to sit on hard surfaces. She had made a habit of tracing the chi paths around the baby, no matter how much it tickled, and this time there was just something… _Waterbender-y_ there, though the gender was still more hope and hunch than knowledge. She tried to articulate this to Zuko, with little success, and finally just sighed, "Well, she's a Waterbender, that's all I know."

"Can she be both?" Ursa asked hopefully.

"No, darling, sorry," Katara said warmly, kissing her on the forehead. "The Avatar is the only one who can bend more than one element."

"That's Uncle Aang."

"Yes, it is."

"Where is he? He hasn't come in a long time," the princess pouted.

"I know, sweetie. He's a long way away doing Avatar duties. He'll be back soon." _I think,_ she mentally added. She wasn't worried for Aang, not really. He had said he might be gone a year or more, and he'd barely been gone nine months. Nine very important months that she wished he hadn't missed, but the facts were unavoidable. She had dealt with his absence more easily than she liked to admit, but those facts_ were_ avoidable, and she intended to avoid them for the rest of her life. "I know the first thing he will want to do is see you," she told her daughter.

Her contractions started eleven days later, during dinner. By the time she recognized them, they had turned from mild pulsing back pain to medium pulsing back pain, and she put Ursa to bed a little faster than usual.

"Zuko, summon the midwife," she said shortly, causing his already pale skin to lose all the rest of its color too.

"Is the baby—?" he strangled out.

"Yes," she said shortly, and he immediately sprinted out of the room, tripping on his own feet.

"Go to your room! It'll be fine! I'll get the midwife! It'll be fine!" he shouted.

Katara rolled her eyes, though she knew he was more trying to reassure himself than her. For her part, she was merely nervous. She knew she was in for a lot of pain, but her biggest question and deepest worry was how long it would take. She had helped Gran Gran deliver a lot of babies back home in the Tribe, and plenty since leaving all those years ago, and she knew that the longer the labor lasted, the more dangerous it became for both mother and child.

The midwife and her assistants arrived quickly, just in time for Katara's water to break. The assistants stripped her and put her in a red smock and helped her into bed while the head midwife tried to calm the distraught Fire Lord.

"Is she okay? Is she going to be okay? How long will it take? Can't I be there? I'm her—_friend_! Her best friend! Can't I do anything? Can't I be there?"

"No, my Lord," the midwife replied impatiently. "Men aren't allowed in the birthing room. You may wait out here. Lady Katara will be fine."

Katara caught a glimpse of Zuko's panicky face as the door shut him out, and she felt a rush of sympathy: he must be terrified. After all, childbirth had killed Mai. But she didn't dwell on it. Right then, she had more pressing concerns to focus on.

The child entered the world at eleven o' clock that night, after five hours of very strenuous effort on her mother's part. Her angry scream upon emerging was the sweetest sound Katara had ever heard, and she started crying despite herself. There was immediately a loud banging on the door and Zuko's indistinct voice could be heard, demanding to be admitted.

The midwife went and let him in, and he bulled past her. Katara smiled reassuringly at him as he came towards her, and a look of such relief broke across his face when he saw she was alright that her heart ached for him.

"Look at her," she said softly, gazing down at her tiny, precious newborn daughter. Somehow in all of her anxiety about whether the child would look like Aang or Zuko, it had never occurred to her that the baby might resemble her after all. But her crystal-blue eyes, tufty brown hair and dark skin marked her as unquestionably Water Tribe, every inch her mother's daughter.

"She's beautiful," Zuko said thickly, sitting beside her on the wide bed. "You were right about her being a girl."

"I know," she replied, stroking her daughter's round pink cheek.

"Will you wait for Aang before you name her?" he asked quietly.

"No. She's Kya, for my mother."

Zuko seemed to relax. "Hello, Kya. Welcome."

They fell asleep like that after a time: Katara holding Kya with Zuko slouched awkwardly over the pair of them as he slowly drifted off, and that's how Ursa found them the next morning.

The large, heavy door swinging open and hitting the wall jolted Katara awake. Zuko, woken mid-snore, choked on air and coughed. Kya stirred groggily and started to whine.

"Is my baby here?" Ursa squealed excitedly, piercing the eardrums of her befuddled parents. She was in her rumpled nightgown, hair disheveled, with a very flustered maid wringing her hands and looking apologetic behind her.

"Yes," Katara replied with sleepy, joyful pride. "Come meet Kya, darling." Ursa scampered across the room and clambered up on her mother's bed, as she had many times before when she was sick or scared in the night. Zuko rubbed his eyes and waved the maid away as the five-year-old plopped down across her parents' legs and stared with wide-eyed fascination at the little bundle in Katara's arms.

"Kya?" she confirmed, looking up at her mother.

"That's right," she encouraged.

Ursa leaned over the infant and said sweetly, "Hello, Kya. I'm your big sister Ursa, and that's Mommy and Daddy. They love us very much and we've been waiting to see you for a long time." And she leaned in and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

Katara couldn't help but burst into tears. Spirits, but she loved her family. What was she to do when Aang came back?

The first week passed in quiet joy, and the next and the next, and in the blink of an eye, Kya was two months old. She was a quiet baby, this child of Water, and she was content to sleep in her mother's arms nearly all of the time when her sister didn't claim her. Ursa was a charming and attentive older sister and she still insisted on singing her songs and telling her stories, which became more like little one-girl shows now that her audience had eyes and would (in theory) watch. Firebending was often included in these performances, as Ursa was very proud of her bending skills.

She had collected the whole family in the courtyard one afternoon to show how the heroine beat the monster to save her sister (an unfortunate but well-paid servant was the monster, Kya was the sister, naturally, and Katara was the mountain keep where the sister was imprisoned. It was all very involved). As Ursa released little bursts of flame and the servant-monster pretended to writhe in fear and agony, Zuko leaned over and murmured to Katara, "I'm thinking of asking Jeong Jeong to tutor Ursa in Firebending."

She looked at him incredulously. _"Jeong Jeong?"_ Their conversation was a whispered one so that they wouldn't interrupt the show. Ursa was crowing triumphantly over the vanquished servant-monster, so Zuko and Katara clapped with polite enthusiasm. "Are you crazy?"

"No," he said, wounded. "Why?"

"Jeong Jeong is an incredible warrior and Firebender, and a high-ranked member of the White Lotus, all that I grant him. But he's not good with kids."

"How do you know?"

"I'm surprised Aang never told you. Back before we met Toph—before we even got the North Pole, actually, when you still had your pony tail—we met Jeong Jeong and convinced him to teach Aang Firebending."

"Oh, is this when he burned you?"

"And when I learned I could heal with Waterbending, yes."

"Well, that doesn't mean he's bad with kids," Zuko returned to the original point. "Just that he's bad with Airbenders. …And please forget I ever had a pony tail," he added.

"Aang was a child back then," she replied quietly.

"Sometimes I wonder if he ever grew up," Zuko muttered, but by then Ursa's victory over the servant-monster was complete, and she was approaching her parents to claim her prize, i.e. Kya, and the adults put their conversation on hold. Ursa led the triumphant procession inside (after Zuko slipped the singed servant-monster a couple gold coins) and they had dinner together on the balcony attached to Katara's room. When the food was gone, Katara put Kya on the carpet for Ursa to play with and relaxed into her armchair while Zuko supervised the girls. The breeze was pleasant and warm from the open doors, and Ursa's lilting babble was the most soothing thing in the world, and soon she found herself nodding off.

She dreamed that someone knocked on the door and said something about the Avatar. She dreamed she opened her eyes to see Aang looking at her, but then he was looking at something else and his face went very blank. She awoke and saw Zuko giving Aang his infant daughter. Aang looked thunderstruck, but Zuko's face was strangely closed as he said "She named her Kya."

Katara sat up from her dozy slouch, and Aang looked at her with wide grey eyes. "I realized about a month after you left," she said simply. "She's nine weeks old."

She heard Zuko begin to shepherd Ursa out of the room, and the little princess protesting: "But I want to see Uncle Aang!"

"Later, honey, he needs to talk to Mommy for a while first."

The door shut out Ursa's continued objections, and she and Aang were left alone.

After a few slow beats, he breathed, "We have a daughter…"

"Yes," Katara agreed, rising from her chair.

"And I missed… everything."

"Yes," she agreed.

"Katara, I—" He choked and looked down at Kya, as pretty as a doll in his arms and just as quiet. "I'm so sorry… there's no way I can ever make this up…"

"No," she agreed again. "Especially to her."

Aang looked at her desperately and took a halting half-step forward. "Do you hate me?"

"I could never hate you." That much was true. Hating Aang was out of the question. But seeing him again after eleven months brought up all the feelings she had worked so hard to bury and forget: she loved him but was not _in love_ with him. She was bitterly ashamed and angry at herself for what she did with Zuko. There was guilt as well because she did not want to go to Republic City as she knew she would have to, and confusion because she thought that feeling was reasonable. She and Aang—and Kya now—were a family, and they all deserved to be together and happy. But leaving would break Ursa's heart, and Zuko's too, though she tried hard not to know it, and she couldn't help but blame Aang for the predicament.

"Then, do you forgive me?" he asked hopefully. Even holding Kya, even as a husband and father, he reminded her forcefully of his twelve-year-old self, caught in some minor wrong-doing and seeking pardon. She remembered Zuko's comment from only a few hours ago, and cringed.

"Yes, I forgive you," she said, and his face lit up.

"Thank you!" he exclaimed, an artificial gust of wind carrying him across the room. She jerked involuntarily as he took an arm away from Kya to fling around her, but the baby was safe, and calm as ever. He kissed her on the cheek, which she didn't feel as anything beyond a slight dry pressure. "Oh Katara, I'm so happy! All three of us going home to Temple together will be so great. Do you want to start packing in the morning, or now? I can find some luggage—"

"No," she interrupted sharply.

Aang looked at her from where he'd gone to rummage for bags in her closet, astonished. "What?" he asked thinly. "Don't you—aren't you going to…? Come back? I don't understand."

"I'll go back to Republic City," she replied, swallowing the large lump in her throat as she moved forward to take Kya out of his loose hold. "But after Ursa's birthday next month, not before. She's turning six."

Aang frowned. "I don't understand. We're a real family now, Katara. You can't stay here. It's not fair to any of us. You said 'for a little while' six years ago. Hasn't it been 'a little while?"

"I don't intend to stay here," she repeated impatiently. "I will be at Ursa's birthday party next month, and then I'll go to Republic City with you. It'll take me that long to close my life here down anyway. And you can prepare for our arrival at the City."

Aang shook his head. "But why do you need to stay? Why can't you come now? You've been here long enough, haven't you?"

"Ursa is turning six," she stressed. "Leaving before would be even more cruel."

"You're not her mom, Katara. You have your own daughter now. _Our_ daughter."

"There are some things about being a family that you're just going to have to take my word on," she replied coldly. "Ursa is my daughter because I raised her and I love her. Don't even try to insinuate that there is an age when a daughter doesn't need her mother."

"That's not what I meant!" Aang protested, backtracking now that he'd realized he'd crossed a line. "I'm just saying that we have Kya now, so—"

"Please sleep in the other room. There is a bed prepared."

"Katara—!"

"Good night."

Aang stayed for ten days before flying back to Republic City. For Katara, it was a week and a half of torture. Aang apologized, of course, and they reconciled. But even with that relief, there was still the knowledge that she and her husband did not see eye to eye on the definition of family. And that alone is what caused her such discomfort until Aang left. She knew he was confused by her attachment to Ursa, and she struggled with trying to balance her two families and figure out how they overlapped.

And of course, she had to tell Ursa that she was leaving.

She brought her to their garden one afternoon a couple days after Aang left, leaving Kya with a maid since Zuko had meetings all day.

"Are we gonna bend, Mommy?" Ursa asked excitedly. "Will you show me the octopus move again? Can Daddy come with us? I like watching you bend with Daddy. You match."

Katara cleared her throat miserably. "No, darling, no bending today. I have to tell you something very important, okay?" They were sitting together next to the pond under their tree. Ursa had kicked off her slippers and was paddling her toes in the shallow water but she schooled her face into an amusingly grave expression at her mother's words. Katara choked back a sob. "You'll be turning six in two weeks."

Ursa nodded eagerly. "Can we go to Ember Island again? That was very fun. That play was silly. I do better ones and I'm a kid."

"You do, don't you?" Katara's heart was splitting further open with every passing word, but she had to keep going. "But we can't go to Ember Island again this year, sweetheart, I'm sorry. Actually… Grandpa Iroh is going to come live here in the Palace soon. Won't that be nice?"

"_Really?_" Ursa's eyes and smile went very wide.

"Yes." It was true. She had written to Iroh only a day after Aang came back, begging him to come and help ease the transition of her leaving. It turned out that the Earth King was about to be married to a capable young woman from the Pang family, who Iroh trusted to act as advisor and wife at the same time, so he had been planning to move back to the Fire Nation in the near future anyway. He understood that he was to be his grand-niece's consolation prize.

"Then he will teach me the tsungi horn!" Ursa chirped happily. "He said he would when he visited last time."

"That will be wonderful, dear… but I also have bad news." _Agni forgive me,_ she prayed. _Tui and La and all the Spirits, I'm breaking her heart and I hate myself for it._ Ursa had a look of such focused solemnity on her face that Katara couldn't help but release a little coughing sob, and she had to draw three deep breaths before going on. "After your birthday, I'm… I'm going to Republic City."

Now she looked puzzled, her nose crinkled up in a parody of confusion. "With me and Daddy too?" Katara accidentally met her gaze, that which was identical to Zuko's, and her resolve nearly broke.

"No, my love… only me and Kya."

"Well, when are you coming back?" she asked, full of sweet innocence.

"I'll be living there, sweetheart, not… not visiting."

Realization broke across Ursa's face like a tsunami over a tiny boat. "I don't want you to."

"I know." Her voice crackled with grief. "I don't either. But I have to."

Ursa stood up and stamped her little wet foot. "No! I'll make Daddy order you to stay and then you'll have to!"

She quelled a spasm of untimely laughter. "Daddy can't order me to do anything, lovey, sorry."

"_No! You're m-my M-mommy!"_ Her voice was a teary, keening siren and Katara realized she was seeing something that rarely appeared. For all the love between her and Ursa, the little princess had still grown up in the shadow of Mai's death, and her heartbreaking fear that it was her fault, that she was a bad child and didn't really deserve a mother at all, was suddenly debilitating in the face of Katara's impending abandonment. Guilty furious shame clawed its way up her throat.

"I am, and I have never loved anyone more than I love you, darling, believe me. And I wish I didn't have to go, but I do."

"No!" she shrieked, tears streaming unnoticed down her flushed face, the face Katara had come to know and love so well. The shining golden eyes, the mussed obsidian hair, the narrow, pert nose… The crying.

"Yes," she whispered weakly. She felt like she was being torn in half, and she hated it, she hated all of it.

Ursa hit her then, a wild, glancing blow to the shoulder that was more shocking than painful, but it broke through Katara's paper-thin resolve and she started crying as hard as her daughter was. "I HATE YOU!" Ursa screamed. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU MOMMY! YOU'RE THE WORST! YOU DON'T LOVE ME!" She ran inside as fast as her little legs could carry her, sobbing and tripping and Katara knew better than to go after her and comfort her: after all, she was the source of her daughter's pain. What possible help could she offer?

Instead, she cried. She tried to be quiet, but her heart felt like it was being slowly peeled away, layer by guilt-ridden layer, and there was no way to conceal that kind of pain.

Evening came slowly in the manner of Fire Nation summers, and night fell like a dark blanket settling over the sky. Still she did not move, not to find either of her daughters or to go to her own room.

Zuko came to her, after a time. He brought Kya, who was whining unhappily for a change, but she quieted down once Katara started nursing her. They sat in silence, listening to the skeeter-crickets converse in the bushes.

"Almost six years ago, you came to me here after Mai's funeral," Zuko finally murmured. "I asked you to stay here and help me with Ursa."

"And I agreed," she replied, voice trembling. Half of her wanted to get up and walk away and not have this conversation, wherever it was leading, but the stronger half wanted to spend every possible moment in Zuko's presence, no matter how much it hurt.

"I didn't know how big that question was," he admitted after a moment.

"Neither of us did."

A bout of silence.

"I wanted to say thank you," he said quietly. His voice was raspier than usual in the cool night air and she blinked away tears. "But those words are too small for what you've done. After Mai died… you saw me, on Ursa's first birthday. If it weren't for you, I—I don't think I would know Ursa at all. I'd be too lost in missing Mai to move on and live my life. You got me out of that, and gave Ursa a family."

"And you were the one who asked me to stay," she reminded him. "None of that would have happened otherwise."

"On Ember Island, you told me you didn't want to leave. Is that still true?" It seemed that having gotten the formal thanking out of the way, he was free to release everything he held in his heart, and those feelings were much less noble and more selfish than gratitude.

Her words were dull and flat. "You shouldn't need to ask that."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because it's the best worst thing. Aang needs me, I need to be with Kya, and Kya needs a father."

"_I—"_ he started, but she cut him off sharply.

"No. She's Aang's." She met his eyes and begged him to understand that she wasn't lying when she said that, though neither was she telling the truth. That really, she didn't know who Kya's father was, and saying she was Aang's was as big a lie as saying she was Zuko's. But it was a lie she would believe in and live by for the rest of her life. And wasn't that sort of like the truth?

"Don't you resent him, even a little?" he asked once the echoes of her rebuttal had stilled.

"Of course I do. He's making me choose between my daughters."

"And your husbands." She couldn't tell if it was meant as a suggestion or a statement, but she was obliged to disagree in either case.

"You aren't my husband, Zuko."

"What we did—"

She interrupted flatly: "What we did was wrong and you know it."

"It would have been wrong if we were drunk, or didn't have a good reason," he disagreed calmly. "But we weren't, and we did."

"What _reason_ did we have?" she scoffed.

"We love each other."

Katara went entirely still. "We…?"

"I love you, Katara. And yes, I miss Mai, but I don't think that makes me duplicitous. It makes me honest, and human. And I want you to stay here with me and with Ursa. I know you love me too."

"I—I don't—" But the denial stuck in her throat.

"You do," he asserted quietly. "I know you. I know how you hate and I know how you love. Don't be childish about this."

"I _do_," she gasped, and the tears she'd thought long spent leapt to her eyes anew. "So much, Zuko, but I _can't_. I made choices years ago. They were correct, virtuous choices that I believed in and still do, even though I know now that the alternative might have been just as good. So I love you, I admit it, but I'm going to live in Republic City with Aang and Kya." She adjusted her sleeping baby against her chest.

He was doing that thing where he clenched and unclenched his fists and she recognized it as his stress and anger looking for relief. She knew him so well by now, and it was painful to realize in a small, sharp jolt, that she would be leaving that tiny little mannerism of his, along with all the big obvious things.

"Ursa came to me during a meeting with the Ministers," he finally said, voice gravelly. "I've never seen anyone cry so hard before, not even you after we faced Yon Rah."

A low, whining moan escaped her. "Don't be cruel," she whispered, clutching Kya close. "Please. You know this can't be about blame."

"I know," he finally said. "I'm sorry. I've never expressed myself well. It's just… I'll miss you. A lot. Between me and Ursa, I don't know who'll miss you more."

"You can't measure that kind of thing," she admonished softly.

"Maybe that's why we try," he suggested, and there was nothing to say to that.

It was eight days before Ursa's birthday, ten before Katara's date of departure, and Iroh and his sizeable retinue had just arrived from Ba Sing Se. The small royal family, including the mother who would soon be leaving them, was arrayed above the main courtyard, hot in their formal attire and impatient with the pompous crier who was presiding over the Dragon of the West's arrival. Ursa was happy but subdued, a state she'd maintained since the evening in the garden. She was not sullen—her nature forbid it—but she was sad, and bad at hiding it.

Iroh had become old, Katara saw. His hair was no longer grey, but white, and the muscles so painstakingly gained for the Battle of Sozin's Comet had long since turned back to fat. She wondered how long he'd been like that without her noticing. Perhaps she just hadn't wanted to notice. His movements were stiff and slow, but his eyes were as lively as ever when he beheld his beloved grand-niece.

Iroh hugged Ursa first, of course, and she returned it fervently, causing Katara's eyes to prick with tears. He then gave Zuko a firm handshake before pulling him into a hug as well, causing His Highness the Fire Lord to blush and fuss with his crown as if it had been jostled. Then Iroh turned to Katara, and she saw in his eyes that he really understood what she was doing to herself and those around her, and pitied her for it. He greeted her as 'dear Katara' and gave her a hug as well, being careful of the sleeping Kya, couched in a sling against her chest as usual.

It took a couple hours for the rigmarole to settle down, and then Iroh asked Ursa to have a tea party with him in his room. Zuko retired to his office for the purposes of doing paperwork and drinking sake (the second was only her inference, but she had a good hunch about it). Katara wandered aimlessly for a while before winding up back at her room. She stared listlessly around at the half-packed jumble of her life. Clothes—there really was a lot of red in there—spilled out of bags, and papers dug out of her desk were strewn across the bed haphazardly. That was as good a place as any to start.

She laid Kya on a cushion on the floor and surveyed the mess of documents. They were mostly letters, she knew, from Aang and Sokka and Suki and Toph (via Sokka, usually), her dad and Gran Gran, and a few others. She started making piles, shifting pages according to whose signature was at the bottom. Soon she got caught up in reading them, finding scraps of the past like little tiny puzzle pieces. _Tuluk broke a window with his boomerang this morning. Remind me again why I married your brother?_ Suki. _Three children started their Waterbending training this season. Pakku pretends he's not happy to be teaching again._ Gran Gran. _We're going to have to rebuild the dock since the storm came through last month, but Toph said she would led us some metal benders for the project. _Aang.

A slim bit of parchment fluttered to the floor as she lifted a few pages with Toph's seal away from the rest. She bent and lifted it up to examine, and startled when she saw the signature.

_Dear Katara and Aang,_ she read at the top. _As two of my closest friends, I wanted you to hear the news from me before the public statement is made. My daughter Ursa was born at five this morning after thirty hours of labor and she is healthy and well. Mai died. Her funeral is in three days. Your attendance would be appreciated. – Zuko _

It was the letter that had started everything six years ago. She remembered the hawk on the sill that warm summer morning, Aang just outside feeding Appa, their oatmeal breakfast simmering and fragrant by her elbow. She and Aang had spent the day quietly mourning for Zuko's loss, and she had been secretly, guiltily relieved that no such tragedy had stuck her.

She took the letter and burned it over the candle on her desk.

Ursa's sixth birthday was a dry day of blue-blue sky and white-white sun, and she looked miserable. There was a festival in the city, and a feast in the Palace. Aang was there, and Iroh, but both of them represented Katara's impending departure, and she found it difficult to appreciate them. There was an impressive Firebending display similar in style to the one Katara had unwillingly participated in the day they'd met Jeong Jeong, but a hundred times bigger and more colorful, and it was truly beautiful. A group made up of her, Zuko, Ursa, Iroh, Kya, and Aang watched the show from the highest balcony of the Palace while the rest of the city's population oohed and aahed in the streets below. A fish and a dragon were twining together above an eyelash moon, when someone small and warm sidled up next to her. Ursa put her hand into Katara's and leaned her head on her hip.

"Mommy?" she whispered.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I said I hate you. I don't hate you. I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

They watched the fireworks together as night wrapped them in sorrow and intimacy and Katara cried.

And two days later, she climbed on Appa and flew away with Aang and Kya, leaving Ursa clinging to Zuko, looking very small, and very lost.

**A/N: Haha, this is a long-ass oneshot, sorry guys. But I had a wonderful time writing it and I hope it shows. Sheesh, 35 pages… This is what I do instead of homework.**

**Anyway, first things first: I am disregarding whatever nonsense shenanigans they get up to in **_**The Search**_**. I started this before it came out, so I'm just assuming Ursa Senior is dead and we were all very sad for a while. But then babies, so. **

**Second things second: this took me a whole semester to complete. I drew up the original outline on the way home for winter break, and finished it up on the last day of classes. I guess it's appropriate that Katara's journey parallels mine: returning to the Fire Nation/college (in peace instead of war compared with my first and second semester), having so many wonderful experiences, and then leaving again and being very sad. **

**Third things third: in the original outline for this, there was only a little tickle of Zutara planned. My ulterior motives are showing, huh? I anticipate some kind of hullabaloo about my transgressions of canon here, so I'd just like to say that if you want pure, straightforward canon, go watch the show. I am a Zutarian 100% and writing Kataang gave me the oogies like nothing ever has before. So why do it? I don't really know. I guess I was just trying to reconcile my views on shipping with the way canon wound up. I respect that Kataang won the day, I just really don't agree with it. Personal opinions and stuff. **

**Dear flamers, thanks for upping my review count. I know this is controversial, but I don't need to hear how much you hate me for writing it. And please, go easy on the "KATARA YOU WHORE" stuff. She knows. **

**Also, a quick note about Mai: I totally love her. This was not meant to come off as Mai-bashing. She's great, and I'm super mad at the creators for reversing her while character arc by putting her with Zuko.**

**I don't usually respond to reviews, but I am all over my PM inbox, so if you have any specific questions about the story, want to start an intelligent conversation about the characters or plot, (or if you REALLY want me to know you hate me) please direct them there. **

**All characters are owned by Bryke, Nick, and Viacom. **

**E.I. signing out**


End file.
